


The Bug Collector

by Ranunculaceae



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Bugs & Insects, Character Study, PTSD, Patchwork Family - Freeform, Post-Endgame, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark-centric, Tony is alive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-23 02:42:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20884817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ranunculaceae/pseuds/Ranunculaceae
Summary: The lake house has a bug problemTony isn't happy about it





	The Bug Collector

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the song The Bug Collector by Haley Heynderickx

He won.

They won.

He won.

It repeats on a loop inside Tony’s mind, enough times until he’ll finally understand and believe it, because it is true. They won. Tony snapped his fingers, sent that asshole and his alien friends packing straight to hell, and went home.

What a perfect home it should be. What a peaceful life.

It is both of these things, truly, so why is it that Tony still can’t seem to rest?

The transition in the aftermath of the battle had been rough. Wielding the stones had nearly killed Tony, and that recovery had been long with lots of touch and go moments. But he made it. A stubborn Stark through and through, he survived, and the first moment he was able to he came back home to Pepper and Morgan at the lake house. It’s behind him now. Right?

He hides it well, he thinks. It’s enough at least that no one calls him out for it. He takes care of Morgan, plays with her and jokes with her, chides her for sneaking into the garage, then spreads a diagram in front of her the next moment to explain whatever project she stumbles upon him working on.

“And don’t tell Mommy I showed you this,” he reminds each time when he realizes what new and exciting power tool he’s taught her about this time. “And don’t ever come in here without me or her.”

He sees Peter more often than ever before. He and May are practically woven into the family now, with the budding relationship between her and Happy. Tony teases Happy about it mercilessly, and Peter’s face turns a fantastic shade of red that rivals both of their suits’ colors when he asks about it, but Tony always finds forgiveness.

He holds Pepper, thanks the universe every day that he can still do that. They got so lucky. He dreams of true safety, of finally being at ease enough to let his guard down.

They won, and he got to keep so much when he thought it might be lost, whether it was him or one of them who didn’t make it out. Tony fears losing it every day, that the battle isn’t really over, that something new or overlooked might threaten his home. When he’s alone, he jumps at shadows, constantly looks over his shoulder. He sits on the porch, under the guise of relaxing in some retirement fantasy, but all the while he keeps a watchful eye over the scenery.

The threat is gone, but the drums of war still follow him and echo in his mind. This is how it goes. This is how it’s always gone. Something new always rises. Something must be coming.

Morning light streams through the curtains of the master bedroom. Outside, birds chirp, and Tony’s sure that if he looked, the lake would be sparkling. Pepper, his Pepper, is sleeping soundly. It’s a beautiful idyllic moment, but Tony has much more urgent matters at hand to be able to take it all in.

He must be breathing too heavily, because Pepper stirs. She draws a breath through her nose and lifts a hand to rub at her face while her eyes blink open and slowly adjust. Tony loves catching this moment when she wakes. She’s always so beautiful, how did he get so lucky?

Today, however, he can’t enjoy welcoming her into the day, because he’s currently out of bed and standing with his body ducked low, hands open, and shifting his weight from foot to foot like a boxer waiting for an opening, all of which Pepper quickly takes note of. She blinks at him.

“Don’t move, Pep,” he warns lowly, and he sees it in her face when apprehension pumps a nice morning espresso shot of adrenaline through her. Her gaze follows Tony’s line of sight until she gasps and immediately scrambles to escape the bed.

“Jesus, what is that?!” she yelps as she clears back a few feet.

The centipede, spooked by the commotion, skitters across the bedspread towards the foot of the bed, towards Tony. His heart leaps, ready to flee, but the intruder stops there. It just lays calmly, naked on his once clean sheets.

Pepper recovers quickly. How can she be so composed right now? She relaxes her stance and moves a hand through her hair to push it back from her face. “It’s just a centipede,” she breathes.

“Just a centipede,” Tony echoes with a scoff.

Tony can feel her confusion as she looks towards him, but his heart is pounding. What’s it doing here? How did it get in? If this one got in, will others be able to follow? He has to get it out. Secure the house. There’s been a breach, the intruder is right here, in his bed. Eliminate, reinforce, protect.

“It’s a house centipede, Tony.” Pepper sounds so calm about it, the way she says it. But there’s an edge to her tone. Actually, not an edge, a drop? It falls slowly at the end. Tired. Wishing she wasn’t dealing with this shit so early in the morning. He puts her through so much. “They’re fine. They’re actually good to have around, they keep bigger things out.”

Bigger things. No, oh no, he’s not having it. He’ll get rid of every last one of them, too, no need for this filthy invader to do it for him. He’s Iron Man.

“I don’t care, I want it out.”

“Put your hands down at least, don’t try to grab it. I’ll get you a cup.” She turns and leaves the room, abandons Tony with his foe. The door remains open a few inches in her wake. Somehow it makes him feel more exposed.

He swears the centipede smirks up at him. He knows it’s plotting as it soils his sheets.

He’s been staring down this thing long enough that he could have counted all of its legs by now. It’s been sitting so still and so calmly, like it belongs there. Like he himself had invited it into his bed the night before, and he just can’t be bothered to remember now he’s awake.

Flashes of his old habits, this metaphorical hundred legs tangling in his blankets, the person he’d been before Pepper, this notion of a lingering self-created threat that could cost him to lose her, intrude the space behind his eyes. He shoves it all away irritably.

He doesn’t need this centipede reminding him of that possibility of losing her. It haunted him for years, and it almost happened, thanks to another certain purple creature with about as much status as this vermin in front of him. Even less now, because they won. He won.

“Okay, crocodile hunter, help me out here.” Pepper pushes a piece of paper into his hands, and he makes a show of that smug victory in front of this centipede as he takes the handoff and shakes it out with determination. He can actually take it from her now. It doesn’t scare him. He’s grown, changed. He’s better, and nobody is getting between him and his family.

“Time to go, buddy.”

The centipede manages to piss Tony off even more when it doesn’t even put up a fight as Tony and Pepper descend on it together, him with his paper sliding under its body as Pepper claps down over it with the cup. It goes quietly. It’s like its mission is done. The centipede has gotten the proper rise out of Tony, and now it’s ready to be escorted out without any fuss.

He hates this fucking thing.

Pepper maneuvers the makeshift trap into both hands, keeping a tight seal and eyes on her prisoner, while Tony tugs back the curtain to flood the room with full sunlight and shove open the window. He yields the space to Pepper.

With the nonchalance that only comes after years of practice escorting Tony’s nighttime guests from the premises, she parts her hands to drop all hundred legs out the window. Tony forces his shoulders to release their tension after he sees it fall the short distance to the bushes below.

Pepper shuts the window firmly and moves back. She adjusts the cup and paper in her grip to pinch them between two fingers, held away in mild disgust, though her expression smooths easily into that familiar composed air. She makes her path towards the door once more, pausing briefly to give Tony a quick kiss on the cheek as she passes. “I’m going to shower and make breakfast. Go get Morgan up and moving?”

“Sure thing.”

Tony pushes his hands into his pockets once she’s gone. Still lingering, he considers the bed clothes. He wonders if Pepper would find it too excessive if he deemed a bonfire to be a more suiting destination for them rather than the washing machine.

Tony always revels in these kinds of evenings, when he’s sat on the floor of the living room with Morgan, a doll in each hand, as she guides him on a personal tour of that fantastic imagination of hers. Pepper lounges on the sofa nearby, and even when resting she still manages to multitask, with her eyes trading their attention between the television screen, her family on the floor, and an e-book posed in one hand. The work is done for the day, and everyone can just wind down and enjoy themselves.

Tony wishes this kind of peace could last him longer than just these short moments, but his mind always forgets the feeling so quickly. All he can do is live in this for right now, hold onto it as long as possible before it ends.

The upbeat music of a car commercial interrupts the show Pepper’s been watching, and she releases a breath as she leans forward to regard Tony and Morgan on the other side of the coffee table. “Alright, Miss Morgan, I think it’s bath time now.”

Morgan pouts at her. “But we’re not done with the game yet!”

“Don’t worry, we can leave this all set up and jump right back in later.” Tony gestures to the sprawl of dolls, illustrating a very elaborate story of drama and betrayal that he’s sure Morgan has plans to culminate in a final grand facedown. He honestly can’t wait to see it himself.

“Let’s go, baby,” Pepper hums as she starts to pull her blanket away from her lap. “We’ve got a twenty-minute window before the new episode airs.”

“I can take her,” Tony offers, already moving to get up from the floor.

Pepper looks surprised, but there’s a small smile around the corners of her eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, no problem.” He reaches his hand down to Morgan, who takes it happily. He mourns for the day when she’ll stop wrapping those little fingers up in his palm. “Take the night off, keep watching your show.”

He leads Morgan upstairs, pushes the slightly ajar bathroom door open the rest of the way, turns the light on, and freezes

Sweat beads on his brow.

“It’s a praying mantis!” Morgan grins at the alien-like creature.

The mantis stands on the rim of the bathtub, long body angled proud as if it owns this place. As he watches, it paces, with arms coiled and head tilted grotesquely in his direction. These damn things always have their demon claws bent in reverence. The most penitent of creatures. What’s it praying to? What’s it trying to sell him?

Tony’s not a very religious man. His mother’s side had been shrouded in anecdotes of Jewish ancestry, and while his father swore to traditional Christian values, Tony never saw him bend his neck over a bible. 

It’s like a priest, out to get him to repent for a life lived in the shadows just outside religion. And this fucking priest is prancing, just look at it. It’s proud to be here. Showing off. Inviting him to dance. Challenging him to defend himself and his choices.

What is he saying?

“Did I hear something about a praying mantis?” The warmth of Pepper’s hand presses into Tony’s shoulder, and while he doesn’t dare take his eyes off the pest, in his periphery he sees her angle her body around the doorframe to get a look.

“This house is infested.” Tony spits the word. He’s pissed. 

“I’ll get something to catch it.” Pepper disappears, and Tony’s side feels cold without her there.

Tony risks a glance away from the praying mantis to check on his daughter, who thankfully has remained by his hip, though her eyes are alight in excitement and wonder. Tony loves seeing that on her face, loves that spark of curiosity that he wishes endlessly will never die out in her. But with that amazement being directed at this vile creature, Tony has second thoughts for the first time. If he weren’t rooted to the spot and directing all of his energy towards himself not dissolving into a panic, he’d whisk her away, maybe move house altogether to keep Morgan away and safe.

“Found one.” Pepper shoulders confidently past Tony into the bathroom, brandishing an empty jam jar. 

The praying mantis goes a lot less willingly than the centipede had. Every step it takes as it shimmies away from the opening of the jar frays Tony’s nerves that much more.

Then it gets the bright idea to try to climb the wall, and Tony wonders just how close each day he is to a heart attack.

Finally, though, Pepper corners it into the jar, and she holds the lid loosely over the top to not suffocate it. Because Pepper shows mercy, and Tony envies how she can allow such comfort after a break-and-entry. Morgan cheers, and of course she asks to see it, so the two of them head back out into the hallway to awe over it together.

Tony lingers a healthy distance away, breathing a little heavy.

There are many trivial facts that nearly every child learns one way or another from a young age, that probably Morgan has already picked up from somewhere. They get ingrained in people’s minds throughout their entire lives, and one such fact involves the mating habits of praying mantises: the females devour the males’ heads.

Maybe that’s how this priest can maintain a clean image. It’s the secret within their celibacy. They do their dirty work and dispose of the evidence. This mantis, this priest, has come for his head. Praying, preying. 

He escaped death before, and this praying mantis has come to reckon him for it.

“Would you please put it outside now?” Tony blurts finally. It’s not snappy. Anxious, more like. A bit breathless and keening in his desperation to protect himself and his family from the praying mantis’s clutches. 

Pepper looks up from where she’s crouched, holding the jar between her and Morgan. That disgusting thing is climbing up the side of the glass, eyes fixed on his daughter. It wants to take her, corrupt her, and he won’t have it.

“Alright,” Pepper agrees coolly. He doesn’t like the way she’s looking at him, like he’s the one with a problem here. “Time to say bye, Morgan. How about I go put it back in the garden?” Pepper smiles, and Morgan presses her precious fingertips to the jar, directly overlapping the mantis’s talons. 

Tony wants to rip the jar from them and chuck it into the lake. 

He tries to gas the house, but Pepper spies the bottles of insect killer and repellent stacked around the porch and stops him before he can damage the health of everyone living there. He sprays outside instead and covers the perimeter. Every corner, around every window, every tiny crack between the wood. It’s a big house. It takes him all afternoon.

After images of bombs hurtling in from over the ocean, of wormholes opening above the roof, of alien ships with guns descending on them, all follow him as he works. His homes have never been safe enough, never impenetrable to intruders, and this is the worst one he’s designed yet. Why did he have to build Pepper a goddamn log cabin? He’s Tony Stark, the master of protective armor, and he’s moved his family into the least secure house imaginable.

It seems to do the job, though, and the week passes without so much as a fly inspecting the produce on the counter. Tony’s mind settles, moves away from thoughts of infestations.

He repeats it, that endless mantra.

He won, he won, he won.

He sits at the kitchen table with Pepper as the clock winds gradually into the late morning. They allowed themselves a slow start today. Tony allowed it for himself for once. He’s at ease, continuing to ride the wave of security from his pest control job. Everything is fine.

Pepper is still finishing her morning coffee, drinking it slowly like she’s also trying to savor this calm moment. Morgan had left them some time ago to go play outside. Tony scrolls idly through his phone.

“Happy texted, says they’ll be here around 2.”

“Perfect.”

He knows that Pepper is excited. They all get excited when the Parkers come up for a visit. Pepper and May get to catch up and have their wine nights, and the two of them head out to the yard to flex May’s secret green thumb. Morgan has been particularly vocal about all her plans for games to play with Peter during the long weekend.

Tony’s convinced she sees him as her brother now, and Tony finds he doesn’t mind that at all, except when it threatens to cut into his lab and movie marathon time with Peter. As an only child, sharing is one hurdle that he and Pepper are still trying to cross with Morgan.

Tony pushes himself up from the table to stand. “I think I’ll head out to the garage, work on the car for a bit before they get here.”

“Just don’t be too long. We still have beds to make.” Pepper gives a half smile over the rim of her mug.

“’Course, just for an hour, then I’ll be back in here to help you set up.” Tony turns and starts to cross through the house towards the door.

Why does he have to glance to his right and see it?

He halts in his tracks, muscles coiling as his blood boils.

“Fucking Christ, there’s another one.” Tony sets his jaw.

He didn’t do a good enough job, he’s going to have to play exterminator all over again. Twice over this time.

No, that won’t work. This millipede now, all of these vermin, that outsmart him and his attempts to barr their entry again and again, it’s driving him up the wall. Why can’t he win? He needs a new tactic. He needs to reinforce the house itself. The cottage aesthetic is nice against the lake, but they’re vulnerable. Sitting ducks in the face of these villains that threaten their home.

Pepper comes silently into the living room to stand beside Tony. She looks down to see the millipede on the floor. Her coffee mug is still in her hands, and she takes a sip as she looks skyward, then breathes slowly through her nose. She’s composing herself. Planning her words and her next move. She’s a strategic woman, and Tony loves her for it, but he knows that it’s not in preparation for battle against the scourge of insects like he’s currently plotting.

It’s about how she’s going to belittle Tony’s concerns yet again.

Although, another thing that Tony loves about Pepper is how she surprises him.

“You know,” she begins calmly as she studies the bastard in front of them, “I have to admit, this one does seem to be giving you quite a look.”

That does nothing to ease Tony’s hammering pulse, because he already sees it. This millipede is angry. There’s vengeance in the way it stands him down, all those legs poised to strike the moment he turns his back.

“Tony.” Pepper shakes her head as she backtracks. To Tony’s horror, enough that his fingers twitch with the need to have a gauntlet as his palm, like maybe he can just blast this piece of shit right through the foundation, she takes a step in its direction. Though, she just sets her mug down on the end table before returning, unscathed, to face him. “It’s just a bug. It’s not going to hurt anyone.”

“I know,” Tony grinds out between his teeth. Logically, he does know that. He hasn’t completely lost touch with reality.

“Then what is this about? What’s going on with you? You’ve never been afraid of bugs before.”

It’s true. He never cared about spiders in the garage at the Malibu house, or the gnats that bumbled their way into his workshop at the tower, or the beetles he’d find clinging to the windowpanes of the compound. In fact, he and Pepper’s roles used to be reversed. He took care of these things so she didn’t have to worry about it. He was the bug wrangler. So what’s happened to change that?

Tony knows exactly what it is, but he’s not keen to voice it. It’s what that centipede had been trying to get him to expose, what the praying mantis wanted him to confess, what this millipede is trying to intimidate out of him now.

“Nothing’s going on. I just don’t want all these pests in the house. I don’t know how they keep finding their way in here.” He opens and clenches his fist, the right one. The gauntlet arm. It’s going numb, it always goes numb these days. He can’t even throw a punch with it anymore, while this millipede has enough healthy limbs to beat him into next year.

“Tony,” Pepper repeats.

Tony hates that tone, because it forces him to listen. Pepper’s nailed it down pat after all these years. The perfect combination of firm and caring that always makes him shut down his train of thought and turn his attention to her.

Her eyes are searching his, and Tony knows she’s found what she suspects.

“There’s nothing out to get you.”

She sounds so confident about it. There’s no room for argument as she says it. That’s another thing that Pepper has mastered – her word is law.

Tony wishes that it would work so easily this time.

He wishes he still had the resolve to hide.

“I won, Pep,” Tony starts quietly yet definitively. Pepper’s head tilts, and her lips press together. “We won, and this- all of this,” Tony waves a hand around the room, “it should be enough reminder of that. It’s over, and it should fucking feel over, but I don’t- I swore to protect you.” Tony focuses his firm gaze on her patient one. “And I lived that way for a long time. So now, I don’t know how to shut it off.”

It’s one of those confessions that leaves a person rattled when it comes out so suddenly. His breath escapes in a rush and comes back in double-time, but Pepper is there. Pepper is always there. She steps forward, wraps her hand around the back of his neck, grounding him, and he lets his head fall forward to meet her forehead. He shuts his eyes and leaves himself vulnerable to the millipede and the truth it came here to draw from him.

“Breathe,” she murmurs, and he does. “I know. But seeing you like this, taking it out on bugs? This isn’t you.”

He’s completely aware of that. This isn’t him at all, but that’s the thing. He doesn’t know who he is anymore. He doesn’t know how to be. He’d dreamed of this life for so long, this peace, this domesticity, but now that he has it, he isn’t sure that he can settle in so easily. It’s not how he’s wired anymore. He was never wired for this in the first place, and the bugs are telling him that.

Pepper draws away. He’s always remorseful when she does that, but he lifts his head and tries to meet her eyes, only to find her narrowed gaze focused somewhere past him.

“I know you still make new suits.”

A muscle works in Tony’s jaw, but Pepper presses on.

“You say you’re working on that car all the time, but I’ve been out there. I see the scraps you try to hide from me. And what about Morgan? You know she likes to snoop around in there, what if she finds something? I know you feel like you need to protect us from something, but Tony, the fight is over. Nothing is coming anymore.”

“You can’t know that for sure.”

“So you think it’s these insects that are after you?”

He’s paranoid, is what she isn’t saying. He wishes she just would. Pepper looks so tired. They’re both always tired, even as they’re supposed to be resting now. He does that to them.

“You retired,” she reminds, switching tactic.

“Yeah, I’ve done that a few times, but look what happened. Something else came up. How can I ever try to believe that it really is finally over?”

They won, they won, they won. Say it enough times and it’ll be true. Maybe this time it’ll work. Something has to work. 

Pepper looks to the side, studies the bookshelves lining the opposite wall for a long time. “I’m not humoring this thought,” she begins, and already Tony rolls his eyes. “But. If, and I mean the very unlikely if, something does happen, you’ll be ready for it then. There’s no point worrying about hypotheticals now.”

“I need to be prepared, Pep.”

“Prepared for what? You don’t even know!”

“That’s the point! I don’t know!” Shit. Tony backtracks, immediately regretting yelling back. Pepper folds her arms. He releases a long breath and tries again. “I don’t know anything about what could happen from here. I don’t know if anything will, and I don’t know what could. That uncertainty, not knowing, not being prepared, that’s what terrifies me. Maybe you’re right, maybe nothing is out to get me, but I can’t prove that.”

Pepper stands still, far too long for Tony’s comfort, as he flexes and releases the fingers of his right hand at his side. His lip quirks helplessly. 

Then she moves, drops her hands, closes back in, and reaches up to pull his head down into her shoulder. He lets himself get wrapped up in her arms. Pepper feels safe. She’s always a reminder of what safety is like. She’s strong, secure, a rope back down to earth when he lets himself get pulled away too far. He doesn’t know what he would do without her. 

“I’ll prove it,” she promises into the base of his neck. “Whatever it takes, however long, I’ll prove it. You don’t have to keep worrying. We’re safe.”

They won.

Tony shuts his eyes, breathes her in, hears Morgan squeal and laugh somewhere outside, drinks in this promise of rest, of stability. He nods. He believes her. He needs to believe her, because the doubt is killing him, and it’s time to end it.

“We’re safe,” he echoes, so she knows he hears it.

“And you did that. It’s over now. We won.”

It sounds so much better coming from her. There’s so much more conviction to it when she says those words out loud, rather than them rattling around Tony’s brain. He feels it right there, the moment the skipped needle halts and the desperate incantation ends. Pepper’s word is final.

“Now what about your friend over here?” Pepper’s grip on his back shifts. “He’s starting to make a slow retreat under the couch.”

“Leave it,” Tony mutters. “Doesn’t matter, another will just find its way in to replace it.”

Pepper hums something of a laugh. 

The bugs don’t matter, he finally accepts. The innocuous intruders are exactly as they are – mere insects. They can’t hurt him. He won’t let them faze him. He has his family. All of them. Happy will be here in just a few hours with May and Peter, and forget the centipede, the praying mantis, the millipede. That spider-kid is the only one he cares about.

They’re safe, and he has his proof right here.

The moment that Peter has shut the car door behind him, he’s bounding over to meet Tony at the bottom of the steps to the porch. Tony grins and lifts a hand to ruffle his hair in greeting, since words won’t work seeing as Peter is already spilling out a novel about everything Tony has missed since they last saw each other.

“Peter!” Morgan comes tearing out of the house behind Tony, and thank god Peter has the reflexes that he does to be able to catch her when she goes flying towards his arms. He settles her comfortably on his hip with a grin.

“Hey there, Mongoose.”

Pepper passes the three of them to head to the car, where she greets May with a warm hug. May steps back to reach into the back seat, and to Tony’s secret dread, comes away holding a foil-wrapped tray. Peter’s eyes widen as he leans in close.

“Don’t eat any of that,” Peter warns. “I swear she put gravel in it.”

He’ll never get tired of this. This is how it should be all the time.

“Mr. Stark?”

Peter’s voice rings quietly in the garage. The music is off, so they can talk and hear each other properly, although the conversation had fallen stale about ten minutes ago. The prompt comes out of that stretching silence, and it sounds so cautious, so hesitant to be followed by the rest.

Tony turns away from the holographic schematics he’s been tweaking to give Peter his full attention. “Tony,” he corrects gently. “Yeah, Pete?”

Peter isn’t looking at him. He fidgets with a couple pieces of wire scraps between his fingers. “Does it go away? Does it stop?”

Tony’s heart twists, rips itself apart and settles in heavy pieces in his chest, because he knows exactly what Peter is asking about.

This kid, like so many other people, like literally half of the entire universe, has been dealt a hand too terrible to ever truly make right. There’s no way to fix it, the scars they share. Of lost time, of closing their eyes to certain death only to blink them open again to a life that’s changed, of the fear that the fight isn’t over. Peter feels it too. The only choice they all have is to try to move on. A nearly impossible task to take on alone, and still Tony doesn’t have the immediate cure for this pain.

That doesn’t mean he won’t try for him. Just like Pepper, Tony will never leave Peter alone in this.

He looks past Peter's shoulder, to the cobwebs hanging from the corner on the ceiling. He's calm.

“I don’t know,” Tony admits. “But I think it can. I think it will. And I’m here to make that happen.”

**Author's Note:**

> I know this was weird, if you’re here at the end I’ve got mad respect. I’ve just fallen in love with this song and the rest of her music, and I wanted a way to explore the metaphors she packs into such simple lyrics.


End file.
